"
Sure enough, at the month's end down she stept, wrapped up in a black
cloak, and a black hood over her yellow shining hair. Straight she went
to the bog edge and looked about her. Water here and water there; waving
tussocks and trembling mools, and great black snags all twisted and
bent. Before her all was dark--dark but for the glimmer of the stars in
the pools, and the light that came from her own white feet, stealing out
of her black cloak.
The Moon drew her cloak faster about and trembled, but she wouldn't go
back without seeing all there was to be seen; so on she went, stepping
as light as the wind in summer from tuft to tuft between the greedy
gurgling water holes. Just as she came near a big black pool her foot
slipped and she was nigh tumbling in. She grabbed with both hands at a
snag near by to steady herself with, but as she touched it, it twined
itself round her wrists, like a pair of handcuffs, and gript her so that
she couldn't move. She pulled and twisted and fought, but it was no
good.
Pages:
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137